A New Kind of Literary Pulse

My person. The Cristina Yang to my Meredith Grey, or vice versa.

She was a random roommate who just so happened to live on the other side of the country. I met Shobhita at a science ...  [+]

I start the chess tournament by entering the skittles room, which unfortunately, is nothing like a rainbow. The skittles room is just a lounge with a water dispenser and is not a candy dispensary. I ...  [+]

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. It was still dark outside, and I wasn’t fully awake yet, but I answered my phone and heard a familiar voice. “It snowed over a foot last night! We need you ...  [+]

As we arrived in Cambodia the sweltering hot air clung to our skin. The air felt like a river. Filling our lungs with water, making it hard to breathe. We traveled to a small, rural town where we ...  [+]

The Forbidden House
I knew what it was. I knew the house on the beach and that I needed to get there. I was there late at night when I knew I had to get away from my mom screaming that the walls ...  [+]

I am not, nor have I ever been, an artist.

I am and have always been, a dreamer.

When I was in 3rd grade I had a necklace from Claire’s, which, in plastic silver letters, labeled me as ...  [+]

A pale, blonde woman in pink scrubs first asks my name and birthday. She has an accent that sounds Scandinavian, and she looks past the tears in my eyes as I answer her questions. She leads me down ...  [+]

I love puzzles. It’s calming to know that everything has its place, and that if I look hard enough I will find it. It doesn’t matter how many times I break a puzzle down; with a little effort, I can ...  [+]

I was in love with the way the dainty pink mouse glided across the stage, her tutu twirling as she pirouetted and her rose-colored bow following the motion of her outstretched arms with every grand ...  [+]

Gemma’s Hair
In sixth-grade, Gemma’s assigned seat was next to mine. My only knowledge of Gemma was that:

1. she played the youngest von Trapp child in our school’s production of The Sound ...  [+]

Stretched out between the living room and the kitchen, straddling the fuzzy carpet and cold tile, lies the warm spot—a vent affectionately named for its delightful puff onto a child’s cold toes. I say ...  [+]

A dark grey weight pulled down on the city, washing out the color and light. The air was dry, and a suffocating heat wafted between the buildings and over the streets. A reminder that beyond the ashen ...  [+]

Memories are like puzzle pieces – tiny snippets of a bigger picture, meaningless in isolation. One piece might show half of a face; one memory might contain a happy moment. You can’t tell what a ...  [+]

“Why am I not a wizard?”
“Why would you want to be a wizard?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Wingardium Leviosa my problems away forever? That would be so much easier than facing them alone with my ...  [+]

I remember visiting Heidi in San Francisco, when I was younger. She was so charismatic in those days, her icy blue eyes glinting mischievously as she lay sprawled out beneath the window, looking like ...  [+]

I went to bed early last night, which is something I only do when I could really use some extra sleep. It was a good plan and an honest attempt to take better care of my body. But at 12:45 a.m., I ...  [+]

Dear —,
Here’s my two cents about thieving: if you’re going to steal someone’s heart, you should let them have yours; it’s hard to live without a heart, you know. If they can’t have yours, then ...  [+]

The radio blares on, playing the latest pop song, a radio game, or a discussion of the day’s traffic. You look over to the red analog letters: 4:30 AM. The sun has yet to wake up, it’s still sleeping ...  [+]